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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28409451">Echoes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamiemackenziefraser/pseuds/jamiemackenziefraser'>jamiemackenziefraser</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Reworking OL Scenes [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Outlander &amp; Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Book 7: An Echo in the Bone, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fix-It, Hurt Claire, Outlander series spoilers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:15:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,218</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28409451</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamiemackenziefraser/pseuds/jamiemackenziefraser</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What I wished happened at the end of An Echo in the Bone. </p><p>(Please don’t read if you don’t want major book spoilers. A more detailed &amp; spoilery summary to follow in the notes.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Reworking OL Scenes [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2080704</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>82</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Echoes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Okay, now that I know you are okay with spoilers, here’s what this really is: Jamie and Claire’s reunion after Claire thinks he’s dead (when Jamie bursts in, kisses her, and then has to leave again and make me gosh darn wait until well into MOBY, which then was kinda overshadowed by the whole “carnal knowledge” debacle) left something to be desired. I felt like Claire’s suffering of thinking Jamie dead was kind of just overlooked. So here’s how I imagined the reunion going instead. Completely self indulgent therapy writing. Hope you enjoy :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When I first heard Jamie’s voice through the door of Lord John’s room, every muscle froze. I was certain that I must either be dreaming or going mad. All the blood rushed from my body in an instant. I felt icy cold, and my whole body went from being locked to trembling. </p><p>
  <em> No, no, no, I couldn’t handle this. It couldn’t be real.<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>And to have Jamie restored to me, if only in my mind, and then taken away again… I couldn’t survive it.  </em>
</p><p>Even so, giving into the madness seemed so tempting. I would have given anything to see him again, even if it meant losing all grip on sanity. </p><p>I realized in a detached way that I had stood abruptly, and was now swaying dangerously on my feet. John had risen earlier, and at the moment, he was at the door and grasping the handle. </p><p>The moment it swung open and revealed Jamie— his beautiful face mudstained and drawn with fatigue, his fiery hair glinting, and his body very much solid and alive, a million emotions overwhelmed me. It was like a wave of water— massive and so consuming that there was nothing to do but embrace it— crashed over my head. </p><p>The sight of him in front of me was so incongruous with the knowledge of his death that my consciousness suddenly blinked out like a light. </p><p>I came to what must have been only an instant later. My mind must have been anxious to see the apparition, ghost, whatever he was— because surely he couldn’t be standing there— and I woke to the awareness that Jamie had just caught me and was holding me tightly to his chest. </p><p>He was on his feet, clutching my limp body so hard to him that my own feet barely touched the floor. Thank Christ that he was, because I never could have supported myself on my own shaky legs. Desperately, I clutched his shirt (surprised to feel it under my fingers because you shouldn’t be able to touch things in dreams) and looked up into his frantic and worried blue eyes. </p><p>
  <em> God, to see those again.  </em>
</p><p>“Sassenach,” he said in a low, emotional voice, “Oh, Christ, lass.” It came out choked. As if he was so overcome he could barely force the words from his throat.  </p><p>“You can’t be real. Oh God, please don’t do this to me. I can’t bear it. Jamie, oh Christ,” my murmurs sounded even to my own ears like the weak ramblings of a mad woman. I surely must have been going mad. But if it meant I could feel Jamie’s arms around me as I did now, it was pure bliss to be insane. </p><p>I had been in denial about his death— that much was clear. For the past weeks, I had lived in an odd state of crushing awareness of his absence in every moment, the words “he’s dead” ringing in my mind, but I shoved that awareness down with chilling numbness. But that bubble of denial had shattered the moment I heard his voice, and I felt completely unequal to the task of handling anything but that minute existence to which I had grown accustomed. </p><p>I was so completely overwhelmed that I couldn't even identify what I was feeling. Mostly I was dizzy.<em> Maybe I would faint again?  </em></p><p>“I’m here, mo nighean donn. I’m alive, do ye hear me?” </p><p>I <em> did </em>hear him. And I saw him too. His beautiful blue eyes were huge as he stared down at me in soft concern. But there was love there, too-- devotion, and all those other sappy things that made me want to curl up and die. </p><p>“Jamie,” I faintly whispered, “you can’t be. But please, <em> please </em>don’t go. I can’t bear to lose you. Or I swear to God I will go through with it.” </p><p>Panic flashed in those blue eyes that consumed my entire world. </p><p>“I promise I’ll no’ leave ye again. But what do ye mean, Sassenach? Go through with what?” He sounded so incredibly gentle. </p><p>I buried my face in his shirt, the shirt of a ghost, an apparition, and shook my head. </p><p>“Slitting my damn wrists. I just want to be with you, Jamie,” tears were pouring down my cheeks now as I rambled. I felt feverish and burning. I certainly was shivering with emotion. This sweet, sweet torture would surely kill me. <em> But I couldn’t let it go. </em> </p><p>The feeling of a rough hand cupping my face with ferocity startled me. </p><p>“Look at me, Sassenach, I’m here! I’m alive. Feel me!” Jamie was pleading with me. </p><p>Then there were lips on mine. One of Jamie’s hands cradled the back of my head while the other was still around my back, holding me upright and pressed against him. </p><p>Sensation overwhelmed me. My lips tingled with his forceful kiss, and I found myself gasping for air against his hot mouth. An electric shock, more jarring than anything I had experienced in my life, shot down my spine. </p><p>I drew back suddenly, and for the first time, I saw clearly. </p><p>I felt as if the fog had lifted, and I was aware of Jamie-- clear as day-- face inches from mine, thrumming with life and holding me in his arms. </p><p><em> Real </em>. </p><p>“Jamie!” I exclaimed. Exuberance, joy, indescribable elation consumed me as I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that he was <em> alive </em>. </p><p>He saw the recognition in my eyes as sanity and awareness returned to me. In the next second, he was leaning in with a reverent murmur of “<em> Claire </em> ”, and then he captured my lips in another kiss, just as passionate. The fervor of it drove the air from my lungs in the sweetest way. <em> Oh God-- </em> </p><p>When he pulled back, I realized with a start that my tears had dampened his face. With a breathless laugh somewhere between joy and a release of the pent up sorrow I had been holding in for a month, I reached out and caressed his cheek, wiping away the moisture. </p><p>He did the same for me, his hand seemingly huge on my cheek but touch incredibly soft and tender. Such a tenderness I hadn’t experienced in far too long. It threatened to send me crumbling to pieces again. </p><p>“Jamie,” it was the only thing I seemed capable of saying. I reverently repeated his name and leaned in for a third kiss. I had to ground myself to him, to know he was still alive, and here with me. </p><p>When he pulled back again, I clutched his shirt tightly, hanging on with every ounce of strength I possessed, which currently was not a lot. But I still managed a feeble ferocity. </p><p>The numbness I had felt for weeks had dissipated the instant I realized he was alive, and the feelings I had barely managed to bottle up had come bursting out. Now, I began to sob. Sharp gasps of mingled joy and pain escaped me. </p><p>“Dinna weep, a leannan,” Jamie was saying as he wiped my face again, “Christ, please, dinna weep. It’s the two of us now, aye? I’m here. I’ll no’ leave ye again.” </p><p>I nodded through my tears and hitched breaths, and Jamie folded me into a tight embrace. In the safety of his warmth--his body solid and real, enveloping me-- I felt like the shattered pieces of myself that had been eeking out an existence of mere survival began to adhere themselves together again. </p><p>I felt him pull back a little, but I was still struggling to get myself under control. The emotions were so strong that I couldn’t see how I could ever regain composure. But since joy was at the forefront of it all, I focused on that. I grabbed at the warm feeling as if I was catching butterflies swarming the air around me. </p><p>I traced my hands over his shoulders, down his arms (bulging with the effort of holding me upright), up his back, and then up to trace his face. My touch held reverence and fascination. </p><p>He was so full of life that I nearly lost hold again. </p><p>When I really looked up at him and met his eyes, I realized Jamie was studying me with sorrow in his gaze. </p><p>“Ye’re so pale, mo ghraidh. And ye’re shakin’ like a leaf. Ye look as if ye havana eaten in a month.” He spared a single glance in the direction of John Grey. Protective animosity flared in his gaze as he made eye contact with the man. “Christ, have ye no’ been feedin’ her, John?” </p><p>I let out a nearly hysterical laugh and clutched at him more tightly. “He took care of me. Stopped me from ending my life several times. I-- but it doesn’t matter now. You’re here. None of that matters.” </p><p>I was so weak I could barely stand. And not just from shock. Jamie had been right-- I hadn’t been taking care of myself ever since I had learned of his supposed watery death. Now, I was near to passing out again as I was more than overwhelmed. </p><p>Suddenly, a different kind of panic, one of remembered danger, flashed across Jamie’s face. </p><p>“Christ, I’d nearly forgotten. There are redcoats on my tail. They’ll probably track me here soon. I hafta go.” </p><p>Jamie looked around, as if trying to figure out where to run and what the hell to do with me. The atmosphere changed from joyous reunion to urgency. </p><p>In a panic, I clung to him. My fingered scrabbled on his collar and I gripped it in deathly white fingers. </p><p>“Don’t let me go, Jamie,” I cried in panic. </p><p>I couldn’t stand the idea of not being in his arms another single second. </p><p>He looked at me with a mixture of sympathy and grief.</p><p>“I promise I’ll return for ye, mo chridhe. I vow to you. But it’s no’ safe, I must go now,” his voice was raw with reluctance and agony at the thought of parting again. </p><p>“No,” I protested, but it came out more like a whimper. I shook my head violently. “I won’t let you leave me. Take me with you.” </p><p>Jamie’s eyes were soft but maddeningly rational. “I willna endanger ye like that, mo ghraidh. And especially no’ when ye’re so ill.” </p><p>I looked up at him with every ounce of conviction and ferocity left in my being blazing in my eyes. </p><p>“I will not be parted from you, James Fraser. We are going together. Now.” </p><p>Hesitation-- fight-- stubbornness-- all struggled on his face for only a second before he acquiesced. He gave a curt nod, and then promptly reached down to swoop me off my feet and into his arms. </p><p>I was surprised at first, as he began to carry me toward the door-- and then it occurred to me that he was right to have lifted me. There was no way I was walking under my own power at the moment. Black spots still crowded the corners of my vision, dancing lazily, and my limbs trembled. </p><p>I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face into the crook of his shoulder. </p><p>“Thank God you’re here,” I whispered, “oh thank you, God.” </p><p>“It’s alright, lass. I am here, and I won’t let ye go,” his deep voice answered. </p><p>The next bits were a bit of a blur. I was still so busy thanking God for Jamie’s return-- feeling his strength underneath me, supporting me again-- that I couldn’t seem to bring myself to complete awareness of the situation outside of Jamie’s presence. I was so out of it that I barely even registered William’s entrance. </p><p>John had followed us out to the hallway, saying something about going out the back, when Jamie stopped dead. I raised my head to see William standing wide-eyed and mouth agape at the top of the stairs. </p><p>“Mother Claire, are ye alright?” He asked me. </p><p>The vision of him swam a little before my eyes. <em> So like Jamie </em>. That was the thought that had echoed in my head that month of being without him. Watching William had brought both further heartbreak and odd consolation. Those feelings I had held during those weeks of desolation crept into the corner of my swirling mind. </p><p>But Jamie was here, holding me. Face to face with William. </p><p>While all this was racing in my mind, and perhaps showing on my face as well, William was apparently waiting for an answer that I wasn’t giving. So Jamie replied for me.  </p><p>“She’s alright,” he said in a raspy voice. </p><p>As floored as I was with the whole shock of everything that had happened in the last few minutes, I <em> did </em>see the moment William’s eyes locked on Jamie and he really looked at him for the first time. William knew in that instant that he was looking at himself. All of us knew it. </p><p>I felt dizzy again, and my heart was beating rapidly in my chest. The <em> thump, thump, thump </em> of it felt too heavy. I wondered distantly if the shock of my resurrected husband would be too much for the overworked organ. As I struggled to stay conscious, Jamie was saying something to William about his baptismal name, James, and I knew the cat was well and truly out of the bag. </p><p>A few more distant words were exchanged as I clung tightly to Jamie’s neck. I could feel his fingers digging into my thigh where he gripped me as he revealed exactly who he was to William-- his father. I felt the tension in them, and wished I could have offered him more support. </p><p>I noticed through hazy vision that William’s face had gone quite red with… something. Was it rage? Betrayal? Dismay? Crisis? Perhaps all those things. </p><p>But we didn’t have time to deal with any more of that, as there was knocking on the door below. </p><p>“Open up!” came the voice of what was most certainly a redcoat officer. “Open up, I say!” </p><p>William’s eyes (the only ones visible to me, though I was sure everyone else’s did as well) flicked toward the stairs leading down. </p><p>“Go!” John was frantically saying, “go now. Out the back. I’ll try to hold them off to give you a little time.” </p><p>We were in motion again. I closed my eyes against the warm skin of Jamie’s neck and allowed it to soothe my eyelids, which felt unreasonably itchy. The blotches of color were dancing even with my eyes closed. </p><p>My mind still kept saying “<em> alive! He’s alive! And he’s holding you again! </em>” in utter disbelief and joy. </p><p>So, I simply trusted Jamie to get us out. I did trust him-- completely-- with my whole life and soul. If he was here, he would see us safe. We were together again; nothing could hurt me now. I allowed him to carry me out the back, and we emerged into the night, unobstructed by any redcoats. </p><p>He stole through the darkness on light feet, barely making a sound. He carried me with amazing ease. Distantly, my foggy brain wondered irrationally whether I had really lost so much weight that I was light as a feather. But then a second part of my brain helpfully provided the memory that Jamie was amazingly strong. He had carried me like this countless times. And now he was running off of the adrenaline of reunion. </p><p>I had lived without him for 20 years. 20 years without a heart. Numb. Half a life. </p><p>But this past month had been somehow different. When he had sent me back to my time (was it even MY time, really?), I had Brianna. I had a purpose into which I could throw myself wholeheartedly. This time, however, I hadn’t even allowed myself to truly deal with Jamie’s loss. I was either so deep in denial and numbness or I expected to simply kill myself and be reunited with him. Either way, I had never truly faced his death and my feelings about it head on. I had just stuffed everything up tight and become a shell-- forced to exist only by the people taking care of me. </p><p>All that was meaningless now. Jamie <em> wasn’t </em>dead. This pain would soon become a distant memory, blotted out by the warm reality of his presence. Of his arms around me. The security of his body and the realness of his soul-- one with mine. </p><p>He slipped into an alleyway, and I realized distantly that we had arrived at the back of Fergus’ print shop. </p><p>Jamie more or less set me down on my feet. He really just maneuvered me so he was holding me vertically instead of horizontally, because I surely would have fallen if not for him supporting me with one arm. I was slumped so I was pressed entirely down the length of his body, and I found that I liked that very much. </p><p>He gave an odd knock, some sort of signal perhaps. Then, the door opened and we were beckoned inside by Marsali. </p><p>Jamie scooped me up again and promptly carried me over the threshold. I heard Marsali give a little gasp at my state as we emerged inside, but Jamie hushed her. </p><p>“Dinna fash. She’s alright. It’s jes’ all a bit of a shock, ken? What we need now is a warm bed and a wee bit of rest, aye?” </p><p>That sounded <em> marvelous </em>. As long as it was for the both of us. I felt like I hadn’t slept in weeks. And to be held by Jamie under the warmth of blankets would be divine. </p><p>I closed my eyes again as Jamie followed Marsali and carried me to a bedroom upstairs. I didn’t know whose it was and I didn’t care. It only mattered that Jamie was closing the door behind him, leaving us alone in the room. </p><p>He carried me over to the bed and gently laid me down on it, so gingerly it was as if he thought I might shatter into a million pieces. I vaguely felt that I might have. </p><p>Jamie sat down next to me, his hands never leaving me-- for which I was grateful. I couldn’t have stood another moment without his touch. </p><p>“Lay down,” I urged. </p><p>He obeyed. Slipping under the blanket, he settled down next to me in the bed and gathered me into his arms. We laid face to face, mouths only inches away from each other and our fronts pressed together. Both of his arms were wrapped tightly around me. </p><p>“Jamie--” I breathed. That simple utterance held so much. So many emotions. Weeks of longing. I wasn’t sure if I was going to pour out my grief again or praise God. </p><p>“I ken, Sassenach, I ken,” he murmured. </p><p>And he <em> did </em>know. His eyes shone with all the unspoken things whirling through my head. </p><p>“Hush now. There’ll be time for talk later, I’m no goin’ anywhere. Sleep now, mo aun ghraidh. And let me hold ye as ye sleep. I promise I’ll be here when ye wake.” </p><p>I believed him with every ounce of my being. </p><p>And so, I drifted off into a deep, peaceful sleep-- the likes of which I hadn’t known since last I was with him-- wrapped in the strength and security of Jamie’s arms. </p><p><em> Alive </em>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Whoooh, that was therapeutic for me. Hope you enjoyed! Didn’t know how many book readers are out here, but I wanted to post in case someone else needed a little something after EIB. </p><p>You may have noticed that I’ve made a new series! (The first one is "Into the Woods", my first fic). They’ll basically be slight canon divergence ficlets in which I rework a scene where I wished there was more or something a little different happened.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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